


Wed Me (Tumblr prompt)

by YourLovelyMajesty



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 10:19:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourLovelyMajesty/pseuds/YourLovelyMajesty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written from a prompt on Tumblr titled "Wed Me." The object was to "write a drabble about a character under the subject of wedlock."<br/>----<br/>"They once agreed that they didn’t need a ceremony to express what they already felt and knew, but now that the doctor had given him a finite number, she panicked."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wed Me (Tumblr prompt)

She stands beside him as a vision of beauty and grace. Her hair is loose in spirals that sway with her every step, she is dressed in a short white shift that is both simple and yet excessive for her, and she even has a splash of color on her cheeks and eyes. Commander Shepard, savior of humanity, is not often in anything other than a navy uniform or armor and it’s apparent; she looks uncomfortable, but she’s always been one for formality.

   Looking at her is more than he can bear.

   He insisted, before this all began, that he stand by her side. She vehemently refused. His condition worsens each day, he’s dependent on an oxygen mask now; he only has so much time and standing for this ceremony was not part of her plans. He found her concern endearing and didn’t argue further.

As the priest speaks, Thane stares up at her soft face. She’s nearly in tears. They once agreed that they didn’t need a ceremony to express what they already felt and knew, but now that the doctor had given him a finite number, she panicked. She thought she had made peace with it, she said. She cried all night at his bedside after the announcement. Two to three months, the doctor told them, and even that wasn’t guaranteed.

  She grips his hand with the strength she gained over her years of service. He feels frail compared to her. Just last month he was still able to lift her without getting too winded. What happened to those days?

“Thane Krios, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the priest asks.

Her human ceremony had confused him when she first broached the topic, but she agreed to be wed in a drell ceremony—something new, something he lovingly walked her through step-by-step. The least he could do was wed her by human standards. She told him the words to say at this time, and now they came easily to him. Just as she had practiced the ancient bonding words of his own tongue, he practiced hers. “I do.”

The priest repeats the question to her and she turns watery eyes toward him. He doesn’t dare to blink, holding his breath as he waits for her answer.

“I do,” she whispers.

And it’s official. In drell and human society, they expressed what they have always known. She is his, and he is irrevocably hers. In sickness and in health, through life and death, they would never be apart.


End file.
